The sound of the crossbow breaking the wind was very sharp, and the sound of hundreds of simultaneous attacks was even more amazing, and almost instantly, several waves of arrows rained down on the circle around Abner.

The melee knight, who had just been laughing at France's cowardice, handed over his life without even making a sound. He was unarmoured, and a crossbow bolt came from his back, directly through his chest, and his body involuntarily lunged forward under the force, and the whole person fell on Abner's body, and he fell to the ground by surprise—until he died, and the sarcastic smile on his lips did not have time to completely dissipate.

This unconscious act saved Abner. The next few arrows all shot past his head, and the knights of the Guards Battalion were constantly shot, and the arrows made a tooth-aching "clatter" sound as they entered the flesh, followed by the muffled sound of a corpse falling to the ground.

Abner was not a recruit, and in addition to the bloodline required by the members of the royal guard himself, he also obtained this qualification after many battles and obtaining enough merit. Judging by the wave of attacks just now, judging by the sound alone, there are probably dozens of fallen guard knights.

This is already an incalculable loss.

The king is the supreme commander of all armies, but with the exception of the Lionheart or Henry V, most monarchs do not go to war in person. Henry VI had no such possibility as a child, so this time he did not go on a campaign, but toured the new territories that had already been won through victory, and only brought with him his own personal guards

Joan of Arc had retired, the King had surrendered, and the whole of France was under the control of the British, except for the two or three little wildcats like the last attack, there was no way for an army to attack, and the Guards were not many in number, but they were by no means weak in combat.

The entire Royal Guards Regiment is divided into three direct battalions: the Infantry Knights' Battalion, the Royal Knights' Battalion and the British Longbowmen's Battalion. Each battalion has twenty squads, each with twelve people, a total of 720 non-commissioned officers, all of whom are above the elite level.

Among them, the Foot Knight is defined as A-level, the Royal Knight Battalion is A+-level, and the British Longbowman is an epic existence. Under normal circumstances, with the cooperation of these three, the combat effectiveness can still rise a little, even in the face of tens of thousands of ordinary soldiers, they are confident that they will be defeated in a battle, and those garbage soldiers who attack during the day will die as many as they come, and there is no threat at all.

Not to mention anything else, the coercion of the class difference alone is probably enough to make those ordinary soldiers who try to attack the Guards battalion blow up the battalion.

But the facts before him were so unbelievable that Abner couldn't believe it. The foot knight who had just shared the wine with him was already lying motionless in his arms, the residual heat of his body was passing away with the gurgling blood. The glass that had just been used to hold the red wine was set aside, and the rim of the glass was a dazzling bright red, but the bright red that was the quality assurance peculiar to Burgundy's fine red wine was now the blood of the knight of the foot warrior spurted on it.

This time I must have met a strong opponent!

"Enemy attack!"

Almost subconsciously, Abner pushed away the corpse of his comrade and jumped up from the ground, shouting loudly as he searched for suitable cover.

Of course, he was not the only one who shouted at the same time, and at this moment, several still alive foot knights issued warnings at the same time. This reality shows that their strong basic qualities, and the speed at which elite troops calm down after a surprise attack is by no means comparable to that of ordinary soldiers.

In fact, the wave of attacks just now, of course, the people who were still alive in the camp knew that this was a surprise attack, and such a warning was also an information reminder to friendly troops, and the strength and tacit understanding of the Royal Guard Battalion were vividly displayed at this time.

Without any preparation, after only five minutes and twenty seconds, the rain of arrows fired by the longbow battalion had indiscriminately covered the front of the camp, and several squads of the royal guard knights even mounted their horses, trying to outflank the raiders from the rear.

At the same time, the weakest battalion of infantry knights began to form a defensive formation with the king's tent as the center. Compared to the previous two, the Infantry Knight is not an offensive class, and several of their class characteristics are basically focused on defense.

In other words, they are the last barrier that the entire royal family has.

"Your Majesty, Your Majesty......"

What made every foot knight feel palpitations was the constant sound coming from inside the king's tent. For security reasons, the knights only had access to the king's residence, and all entry without the king's personal consent was tantamount to rebellion, so everyone had to wait patiently for orders from inside.

The king's personal physician soon entered the tent, and a moment later a suppressed cry of pain was heard, relieving everyone's hearts.

It was the voice of the king.

In fact, Henry VI seemed to be able to feel the feeling of something breaking in his weeping, which was condensing the bearing of a king. He had already prepared to wear a crown and red wine to celebrate this victory with his knights, but before he could lift the curtain of the tent, the shrill sound of breaking wind like a piccolo came through the tent.

He watched as a foot knight outside the tent was shot by four or five powerful crossbows at the same time, and the huge impact carried his body up and flew into the royal tent where Henry VI was behind, and the blood that splattered out dyed the royal tent with a large patch of bright red, which made him stunned and frightened, and the thick bloody qi that came through him almost immediately vomited.

A child who is cowardly by nature and only ten years old immediately faints to death on the battlefield where life and death are really faced, which seems to be the most reasonable ending.

"The king is still only ten years old!"

Irrepressible thoughts spread in everyone's minds. Henry V's prowess impressed his subjects too much, and when they suddenly found that Henry VI did not seem to have inherited this quality, the numerous knights of the infantry could not help but be a little frustrated.

"Your Majesty is just too frightened, just cultivate for two days." The royal personal physician quickly used a special method to awaken Henry VI from his coma and at the same time gave advice on health.

"Your Majesty is just overworked from the long march, do you say, Lady Gresia?" Richard, Earl of Warwick, steward and guardian of the royal family? Beecham quickly corrected the royal physician's words, while implicitly issuing his own warning.

"You're right." The Imperial Physician Gresia was obviously not a fool, and her ability to sit in this position was not unrelated to her medical skill and her keen political sense, and since the Earl of Warwick said so, the only fact must be that it must be so.

"Your Majesty, I suggest that you immediately summon the commander of the Guards Battalion and your military adviser to inquire about the specific situation." The Earl of Warwick, waiting for Henry VI to sober up a little, immediately made his own suggestion, and he was so anxious that he did not see the look of boredom on Henry VI's brow.

"As you wish, my teacher!" Henry VI reorganized his crown and sat on his throne as usual, but the Earl of Warwick was terrified by what he said, but he did not know how to correct it at this time, so he had to stand aside with his head bowed and continue to play the role of steward and guardian.

PS: It's actually 400 chapters, why don't you celebrate more?